


once you were tethered and now you are free

by CosmoKid



Series: that was the river (this is the sea) [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anti-Abby Griffin, Anti-Clarke Griffin, Attempt at Humor, Crushes, Episode:s06e03 The Children of Gabriel, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious Bellamy Blake, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, canon? i don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18852730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: Like all things remotely good, it comes to an end pretty quickly when the man who ordered for them to be arrested walks in. It’s a little unexpected when the first thing he says is, “I trust you’ve been well taken care of.”Though it renders him speechless, Clarke seems to be immune to that effect and immediately starts talking. Even more unexpected, the man cuts her off by holding up her hand in a clear stop sign. “Who is in charge within your group?”Silence falls over them as eyes flit around the room. Old alliances and loyalties having worn off, it’s difficult to choose someone definitively. Their world is turned upside-down and burnt alongside all of the older leadership systems. It’s Shaw who speaks up, “No one, not anymore.”“I see,” the man says and Murphy can’t help but feel that there’s something malicious there. “Who may I speak to in place of that? Someone who may speak on all of your behalves?”“Bellamy,” he says, the name falling out of his lips before he can even think about taking a second to think about it. It’s right though, he knows it. “It should be Bellamy.”a different take on s06e03





	once you were tethered and now you are free

**Author's Note:**

> oof this took a longass time to write but im really happy with it
> 
>  
> 
> this focusses a lot more on the murphamy side of things than bechophy as a whole but i thought that would be important to focus on. i also focussed a lot on echo by herself as a character since jroth wont fucking do it himself.  
> also nearly made the i think im going to hell thing into a joke because i hate it, but also i hate it so much that i didnt include it all because how the fuck would the concepts of heaven and hell survive an apocalypse and 200 years in space? im pretty sure the ark did not have religion but whatever, jroth has a motif and hes got to stick with it  
> also i tagged ptsd because at least half of these characters have it even if the writers dont think so, especially octavia. girl needs a break, a hug and an explanation as to why murder is not good
> 
>  
> 
> i made russell quite pretentious because i think i might stick with the idea of it being like a royalty kind of thing and i reckon youd be pretty pretentious if you were the seventh leader of a royal family
> 
>  
> 
> also can you tell i dont know how to write descriptions for this series

_Bellamy_

He blinks awake, the cardinal sun beating down on his face. Wiping sweat from his brow, he sits up and jumps out of his skin when someone speaks beside him, “Finally. Thought I was going to die of boredom waiting for you to wake up.”

“Murphy?” he asks, trying to focus on his surroundings. Exhaustion sets in as soon as he tries to move his head. “What happened?”

“Everyone went crazy and chaos reigned upon us, you could say,” Murphy says in a casual tone. Bellamy stares as he tries to piece fragmented memories into a coherent picture. “I don’t suppose you know when the right time to say I told you so is because I’m really feeling the urge to say it right now.”

Dragging his hand down his face, he runs over the myriad of things he could say in response and decides on a simple eye roll. “Is everyone okay?"

Murphy shrugs. “Clarke’s got a cut on her neck, but I patched it up the best I could. As for the others, well, I haven’t come across any dead bodies. That’s probably a good sign.”

Despite there not really being any rhyme or reason for relief to set in, it rushes through his veins and he lets out a breath. His mind still feels a little fuzzy and he’s a few steps away from his head pounding. He drags himself up so he’s sitting up properly, his legs resting against Murphy’s. It’d be easy to just stay like this and let the world come to them. But he knows they can’t.

“We need to-”

He stops mid-sentence as a thought floats into his brain. He closes his mouth, then opens it again and then closes it, feeling like a stunned goldfish. 

“What?”

“Were you not-, did it not affect you? The toxin, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Murphy admits after a pause. Bell watches as Murphy chews on his lip, his gaze zeroing in. “How did it feel for you?”

He frowns. It feels indescribable. Like his mind was baptized in a sea of honey. Everything sweet and yet everything numb. The world had curved in the corner of his eyes and every blink was like a different dive into the River Lethe. He can remember everything that happened, but if he tries to focus, it all disappears, trickling away like water down a plug. Thoughts had raced around his mind, feeling as if they were in different fonts and colors somehow. Nothing made sense, but there was an illusion of clarity covering it all.

“It was,” he says, scanning his brain for any kind of way to respond. “Fuzzy.”

“Very descriptive,” Murphy remarks, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.

Raising his eyebrows, he insists, “It was. It’s hard to explain, it’s like all of my mind was… was gone? Does that make sense? I don’t know, I just, I kept getting these thoughts of what to do and I just couldn’t stop doing them.”

“Destructive urges?” Murphy asks and he nods, lost for words. “Sounds like something I’d get diagnosed with normally.”

He doesn’t say more on the topic and Bellamy doesn’t push. There’s time for that later, but for now, they need to check on the others. He starts to articulate that to Murphy, but he’s interrupted by a shout.

“Clarke?” Murphy repeats in a distant voice as they both turn their heads to the direction of the shout. “Is that Raven?”

“How did they get here?” he murmurs, watching as they come into focus. First Raven and then Jordan. Abby is next, dragging a woman he doesn’t recognize with her and bring up the rear is Octavia. His stomach drops. “Why is she here?”

She speaks in a deep voice, an unfamiliar gravelly tone tainting it, “I came to save my brother.”

Murphy’s hand comes to rest on his knee and he’s grateful for it, the small motion grounding him. He can’t bring himself to look at her, not after everything.

“Where’s Clarke?” Abby asks, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

Raven rolls her eyes. She corrects, “Where’s everyone else?” 

There’s not an iota of doubt in his mind that he’d fail to identify the huts everyone started in, let alone point out wherever they ended up after the eclipse. Fortune is on his side or perhaps just Murphy as the boy in question launches into a spiel of where everyone is. 

He stops midsentence, however. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus on why and it’s only when he hears the sound of children laughing that it really dawns on him. His mouth forms an ‘O’ as the first child crosses the threshold of the stairs, almost skipping over. She comes to a stop in front of them.

“What the hell?” Murphy murmurs beside him.

The girl smiles at them, mousy brown braids swinging on either side of her head. “Are you here to take us home?”

His shoulders tense, what the hell indeed.

“Isn’t this your home?” he asks carefully, not wanting to upset her. That doesn’t matter though because, within a second, there are shouts for the children to get away from them. There’s a helpless feeling in the air as he watches adult after adult after adult hurry toward them. He’s not sure if he’s the only one who feels it.

“We’re from Earth,” Abby calls out, “We come in peace.”

Murphy snorts. “There’s so much irony there, I don’t know how to quantify it.”

Bellamy glances at him momentarily as if to tell him to behave but soon turns his eyes back to the scene before him, watching the woman seem to reunite with someone she knows. His stomach flips when he hears something about her family being killed.

“What the hell happened?” he whispers to Raven who just sighs, looking at him like she’s just had the worst day of her life. 

Her face contorts a little before she settles on, “Nothing good.”

“So, no different than usual,” Murphy says, leaning back on his hands. “Guess we just ride this one out then.”

 

_Murphy_

“Why did he tell them about everyone else? They could have ambushed them,” Octavia mutters when he slides into the seat next to her. 

The atmosphere around her is so different from everyone else in the room, the small happiness he had having been sucked out of him as soon as he’s next to her. It’s like a vacuum of hopelessness follows her everywhere she goes. He takes a deep breath and tries not to think about it.

There’s a lot he’s trying not to think about including the warning bells in his ears telling him this is a bad idea. She’s the mad queen and if he’s not careful, he’ll be the unfortunate attendant in Flanders. 

“Well, hello to you too,” he greets, leaning back in the chair and giving her a crooked smile as he tries to get his heart to slow down. “I came here hoping for some titillating conversation, but apparently we’re just in a rehearsal of act one of John Murphy the Musical, the part that details when he was a destructive brat.”

She regards him with a glare but doesn’t say a word. He rolls his eyes. She could at least make this a little easy for him.

Folding his hands behind his head, he lets out a dramatic sigh. “Since you seem to have taken up my place in our little fucked up community, I thought I’d offer my services. A heart-to-heart, if you will, between two pariahs.”

“You’re no more of a pariah than Shaw is,” Octavia tells him, staring ahead. 

“I mean, Shaw didn’t piss on a guy for no apparent reason so maybe we should regard with a little less pariahship than me. Seems only fair.”

“Pariahship isn’t a word.”

He raises his eyebrows, turning to look at her. “Neither is Wonkru. Still means a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up, Murphy,” she mutters, but her voice wobbles. She glares down at the floor, her entire body tenser than a bowstring. “What do you even want?”

“I told you, conversation,” he says, kicking his feet up in the air. She huffs. “Everyone here is all doom and gloom, I thought you might be a little more interesting.”

It’s a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that. The longer he can go without having to talk to Bellamy about what happened with Clarke, the better. This is the best way to avoid that conversation.

“Why don’t you go find someone who actually wants to talk to you?” she snaps, planting her feet on the ground. “Like my, my brother.”

He pauses, taking a breath as he tries to gather his thoughts. He wasn’t expecting this to be this hard. “Okay, look, I know how you’re feeling. You’re isolated, you don’t fit in and it feels like everyone hates you. They see you as nothing more than a violent psychopath and it feels like whatever the hell you do, you’ll never escape it. I _get_ that. And that’s how I know it’s hard, it’s a hard thing to go through so that’s why I’m here, I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing.”

She doesn’t reply, but he sees her lip quiver. She shakes her head so her hair covers most of her face and leans forward a little. He swallows. She looks so young like this, she’s a kid really, they all are.

“Something happened in the bunker, I don’t know what and I’m not going to try and guess. All I know is that something pretty bad must have happened for the solution to be a fighting pit,” he says and licks his lips, turning to look at her. She still doesn’t look up, keeping her eyes and spirit downcast. He continues, “Something that bad must be a lot to carry. So, if you ever need to talk about it or if you ever want to, I thought I’d tell you that you can come to me. I’ll probably understand.”

“Bellamy,” she whispers after several seconds of heavy silence between them. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“You don’t know that,” he says and she turns to him, giving him a look that says _you’re a moron._ “Hey, he actively wanted to kill me a couple of years ago and now we’re at the point where he’ll get me in a headlock and refuse to let go until I admit I’m not worthless or something.”

There are a few seconds where it feels like she’s going to say something else, but all that comes out is an almost inaudible whisper. “That sounds like him.”

Despite it all, he smiles. “Yeah, he’s a big softie really.”

“He is,” she agrees and then lets out a quiet sound that’s almost a sob. “I did so many bad things to him.”

“I’m sure he could come up with just as many bad things he did to you as you’ve done to him.”

She pushes her hair out of her face and sighs. “He’s never put me in a fighting pit.”

“You had your reasons,” he says and she doesn’t argue. It confirms what he knows; this small sign of remorse doesn’t mean she’s ready to let go of Blodreina. Though it is a start. “Plus he was pretty controlling of you when we first came down.”

“That hardly compares,” she remarks, rolling her eyes at him.

He shrugs. “Look, we’re all fucked up and we’ve all done fucked up things. That doesn’t mean we can’t change. You and Bell have always had a bit of a fucked up relationship, but that doesn’t mean you can’t salvage it. Talk to him, tell him the truth. That’s the only way he’ll forgive you.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. Then she opens it again and closes it, and repeats it for several seconds until she murmurs, “Abby told me to do it. She said I had no choice, that I-”

“Would anyone like a drink?”

They both jump, turning their heads toward the door as who he assumes the owners of the tavern walk in with drinks. He looks at her in question and she shakes her head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks in a gentle voice.

She shakes her head, “I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” he says and leans back again. He might as well get comfortable, they’re probably going to be here for a while. For a prison, it’s pretty damn nice if he does say so himself.

It takes a few minutes for Octavia to relax beside him, but soon they’re leaning against each other, listening to Jordan chat with one of the tavern owners. It’s nice, almost enough to make him forget that they’re being held captive. 

Like all things remotely good, it comes to an end pretty quickly when the man who ordered for them to be arrested walks in. It’s a little unexpected when the first thing he says is, “I trust you’ve been well taken care of.”

Though it renders him speechless, Clarke seems to be immune to that effect and immediately starts talking. Even more unexpected, the man cuts her off by holding up her hand in a clear stop sign. “Who is in charge within your group?”

Silence falls over them as eyes flit around the room. Old alliances and loyalties having worn off, it’s difficult to choose someone definitively. Their world is turned upside-down and burnt alongside all of the older leadership systems. It’s Shaw who speaks up, “No one, not anymore.”

“I see,” the man says and Murphy can’t help but feel that there’s something malicious there. “Who may I speak to in place of that? Someone who may speak on all of your behalves?”

“Bellamy,” he says, the name falling out of his lips before he can even think about taking a second to think about it. It’s right though, he knows it. “It should be Bellamy.”

“And you are?” the man asks, motioning for him to stand up.

He does, his legs shaking and his brain racing. “Murphy, John Murphy.”

The man looks him up and down before nodding. “Which of you is Bellamy?”

“I am,” Bell says, his voice deep. Murphy watches with bated breath as he stands up, crossing the room to meet the man. “Bellamy Blake, and you are?”

The woman behind him steps up, speaking with clear venom in her voice. “He is Russell Lightbourne, seventh of his line, _savior of Sanctum_. And you will bow before using his name.”

Bellamy tenses, glancing between them. “I apologize-”

“We can hardly expect them to know of our traditions, dear,” Russell interrupts, a lighter tone to his voice. Murphy blinks, glancing around the room to gauge everyone else’s reaction. He locks eyes with Echo who shakes head as subtly as she can. “She’s a stickler for tradition.”

“Of course,” Bellamy says.

Russell smiles. “I hear that you have two pilots.”

“We do,” Bellamy says, hesitating a little this time. Murphy can barely breathe with how tense it is in the room.

“Good,” Russell tells him and then looks up to address them all. “It’s essential for us to get your ship within the perimeters of the city as soon as possible. I’d appreciate it if some of you would accompany our people to retrieve it.”

“We’ll be happy to assist in any way we can,” Bellamy says, his eyes trained on Russell. 

“Thank you,” he says. Murphy narrows his gaze, something is off with him. “Choose your most expendable members and meet our team near the crop fields when you’re ready.”

Shaw speaks up again, voicing what Murphy is thinking but in a much calmer tone, “No one here is expendable.”

“Of course,” Russell says as if he doesn’t believe him at all. There’s something so familiar about him and his mannerisms. “Bellamy, I’d like to invite you to dine with us tonight. We can discuss the possibility of us offering you refuge.”

Bellamy nods, the motion stiff. “Thank you.”

Russell smiles at him. “I would appreciate it if you’d be hasty with your decision as who to send.”

With that, he takes his leave, his entourage of guards following after him. Whether he’s aware of the tension he’s created in the room and the foul taste in Murphy’s mouth at his words is yet to be discovered, but on basis alone, he doesn’t seem to be the type to be trusted. 

It places them in a precarious position, it’s near impossible to negotiate peace with one you don’t trust, but unless they’re planning to somehow stage a coup, they don’t have other options. He has no doubt that Clarke would be ready to resort to that, but he knows that Bell wouldn’t agree to it. He doesn’t blame him either. It’d be nice to have some peace for a while.

There was a peace on the ring, he supposes, but when you’re sharing an enclosed space with six other people, peace isn’t always helpful. Feeling trapped here seems to be less likely, however. 

He’s glad he spoke up, he trusts Bellamy to deliver them to safety. Ever the peacekeeper, ever the savior. They’ve come a long way from the day the dropship landed.

“Murphy,” Clarke says, looking at him with something just above disgust in her eyes. He sneers. “You’re coming with us to the ship.”

“Sorry, did I miss the election where you became chancellor or do you still expect people to do everything you say just because it came out of your mouth?” he asks, crossing his arms and glaring at her. 

She rolls her eyes. “Murphy-”

“No, he’s right,” Bellamy interrupts, stepping up beside Clarke. “The only people who are going are the ones who volunteer. We’re not forcing people to do things they don’t want to do. Besides, Murphy isn’t a fighter, even when he’s not injured.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says, turning to look at the man in question. “We need to maintain an amicable relationship with these people, Murphy can’t insult any of them if he’s with us rather than here.”

“He didn’t volunteer, Clarke. If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t go,” Bellamy says in a tight voice. She stares at him for a few seconds before she huffs and walks away. He rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t overstep, did I?” he asks Bell once she’s gone, meeting his eyes again. Bellamy smiles softly, turning his head a little. The sun hits his face just right so that Murphy could count every freckle on his face. 

He shakes his head. “No, I’m glad you did it. I think it’s made Russell take a liking to you.”

“Great,” he says and drags his hand down his face. “What is it with me and attracting somewhat fanatical older men in positions of power?”

“Must be your sparkling personality.”

“Oh, don’t compliment me, Bell, you wouldn’t like me when I’m vulnerable.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “That’s news to me.”

He grins. “You must be getting slow in your old age then, Blake. Do I need to find you a walking stick to help you get along?”

“Why do I put up with you again?”

 _Because you love me_ is on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself, instead saying, “Must be my sparkling personality.”

 

_Bellamy_

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, trying to focus on something other than how nice Echo’s hands feel in his own. 

“ _I don’t_ want to do this,” Echo says and he can hear the frown in her voice. “There’s nothing I want to do more than just stay with you and cuddle or something, but we need to do this. Other than maybe Oct-, your sister, I’m the best fighter we have.”

He sighs. “You’re better than Octavia. She’s spent the last six years fighting people too scared to fight back.”

“Which is exactly why I have to go,” Echo tells him, squeezing his hands. He smiles sadly at her. “I’ll be back before morning, I promise. I’m not losing you right after I got you back.”

“I love you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her mouth.

“I love you too,” she whispers when they pull back. “Now you need to go prepare for the most important dinner of your life.”

Closing his eyes, he lets out a deep breath. “Don’t remind me.”

“You’ll be fine, negotiating is what you’re good at. You’re the best talker we’ve got aside from, well, Murphy maybe,” she says in a firm voice. He nods, opening his eyes to see her smiling. “It was pretty smart of him to put you in that position before anyone else could volunteer. I think you’re the only one in the room that everyone trusts.”

He nods. “He’s good like that, thinking on his feet and improvising. I can’t count how many times he’s been essential to saving all of our asses when a plan went wrong.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it possible to start a civil war by talking to a single person without a plan and yet Murphy did it with ease,” she says in a low voice. He smiles.

“Yeah, that’s Murphy for you,” he says and looks out around the settlement. “Hopefully, he’ll have better luck on this planet than he did on Earth.”

“We’ll make sure of it,” she tells him. He nods again. “Now you go prepare and I’ll go save our ship. That sound good with you?”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

“Good,” she says and pulls him into a hug. He wraps his arms around her, holding tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs into her hair. It’s probably a good few minutes before they pull away. “See you soon, okay?”

She nods and turns away to join the rest of them heading toward the fence. He takes a deep breath and spins on his heel so he doesn’t have to watch her go. He’s just pulling himself together when a weight hits his front. He tenses, glances down and then his eyebrows furrow.

It’s a… dog? 

He never thought he’d see a dog. It’s standing on his hind legs, paws on Bellamy’s chest and tongue lolling out of his mouth. He lets out an absurd laugh and reaches up to scratch behind its ear. 

“Picasso, come here boy!” someone shouts, followed by a whistle. The dog turns, running toward the voice. He follows it with his eyes, only a little surprised to see Russell giving it a fuss. “Bellamy. Join me?”

It’s phrased like a question, but he knows it’s an order. Bellamy nods, heading up to where Russell is standing, looking out over the settlement. He ponders, for a second, what it would be like to be an absolute leader, looking over all of his people. He can’t imagine it, not really.

“You know,” Russell starts, his voice taking a more thoughtful tone. “I thought we were the last outpost of humanity for so long. We’ve been waiting for over two hundred years for our saviors to come and take us home, I’d lost all hope.”

He frowns. “And then we come, and we tell you that home doesn’t exist anymore.”

“It’s naïve to hold onto hope, but you always do, don’t you?” Russell asks him and Bellamy nods. “Tell me, how did Earth meet its end?”

Letting out a breath, he scratches the back of his neck. “It’s a long story, spanning centuries, really, and a lot of reckless people.”

“That is the nature of humanity, isn’t it? We squabble as the world ends around us, always wanting to be right,” Russell says and Bellamy bites his lip. “I suppose you can tell us over dinner, sate our curiosity as we sate your hunger.”

“A quid pro quo.”

“Exactly.”

He nods. “Thank you, for giving us refuge even if it is just for today. It means a lot.”

“Perhaps it’s naivety, but I like to be hopeful about anything new that we encounter,” Russell says, reaching down to fuss the dog, Picasso, at his feet. It hasn’t moved once since Bellamy joined him. “That Murphy seems to have a lot of hope in you. Say, bring him with you to dinner tonight. I’ll have someone bring clean clothes to the tavern.”

“Thank you,” he says for the second time in two minutes, the power imbalance clear.

“It’s nothing,” Russell says and glances away from Bellamy again. He swallows around the lump in his throat, the settlement feeling a bit more daunting now.

 

_Echo_

They’re in the thick of the woods when Raven lets out a huff and mutters, “Why is she even here?”

Echo sighs as she pushes a branch out of her way. “Her child is on that ship.”

“The child that she put a shock collar on,” Raven says, glaring at Clarke who seems to be attempting to lead the pack even though she doesn’t actually know where she’s going. “You can’t tell me that she actually cares about Madi after that.”

“I don’t know, Raven,” she says in a tired voice. “Madi seemed happy to be reunited with her before all of this. I guess they patched things up or something, she was entered as Madi Griffin on the ship.”

“Would you be able to forgive her, though? If your parent put a shock collar on you to control you, could you just patch things up and be fine with it?”

She takes a deep breath, feeling old memories crawl toward the front of her mind like deformed corpses reaching out to claw out at her. She forces them back and admits, “No.”

Raven makes a humph noise before she grows quiet. Echo watches her carefully as she frowns. “You know, I think Murphy’s Mother used to hurt him.”

“Has he…” She trails off, her brow furrowing. “Has he told you that?”

“Not exactly, no,” Raven says as she ducks under a particularly large branch. “I just, I get that feeling from him. I don’t know, it’s just, I don’t know. It just feels like that, you know what I mean?”

“I get it,” she says in a distant voice. She shakes her head. “Anyway, there’s no point talking about that. Tell me, what’s going on with you and Shaw? You two disappeared for quite a long time.”

“Really?” Raven asks, but Echo can tell there’s a smile tugging on her lips.

“Yeah. Tell me all about it. Where did you two sneak off to?”

“We didn’t sneak-, _fine_ , we went to his room, okay?”

She grins. “Considering he hasn’t had sex in over two centuries, tell me he’s good.”

“Echo!” Raven exclaims, hitting her in the arm weakly. 

“What?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at her. “The minute you saw me walk out of Bellamy’s room, you dragged me halfway across the ship to ask me about it.”

“Don’t use my own actions against me,” Raven says and pouts. 

She lets out a laugh, throwing an arm around Raven’s shoulders and hugging her. “He treated you right?”

“Yeah,” Raven says and her face softens. “ _Really good_. Maybe it’s just me, but before Shaw, the only guy who acknowledged that my tits existed was Bellamy. Shaw spent like at least five minutes just focussing on that. It was so fucking good.”

“I’m glad,” she smiles. “It’s clear he really likes you.”

Raven rolls her eyes, “Obviously. I’m pretty damn great.”

“And incredibly modest,” she points out and Raven shoves her good-naturedly. “But seriously, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy and I can tell Shaw makes you happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, he does,” Raven murmurs, a soft smile on her face. “You got any news to tell me? How are you and Bell doing?”

She shrugs. “Good. It’s nice that we can just spend time together again, even if it’s just for a couple of hours trapped in a tavern on an alien planet, even when Murphy is flirting with your boyfriend.”

“Murphy flirts with everyone,” Raven points out.

“Apparently, he called Bell Daddy yesterday.”

“Daddy? He seriously called him Daddy? Why would he do that?”

“From what I gathered from Bell telling me about it through a lot of laughter and blushing, asked him to gag him and choke him.”

“Whilst calling him Daddy?”

“Whilst calling him Daddy.”

Raven laughs, muffling it with her hand. “You know, sometimes I forget how much I love having Murphy around and then he does something like that and I remember all over again.”

“He’s pretty great.”

“Yeah,” Raven agrees. She ducks under another tree and Echo has to remove her arm from around her shoulders. “I almost wish he’d joined us, but I think I get a little more enjoyment out of knowing it annoyed Clarke.”

“I think that’s Murphy’s entire goal right now.”

“What?” Raven asks, turning to look at her, “Annoying Clarke?”

She nods. “He’s been calling her out on everything she says, but he’s never unreasonable about it. I think that upsets her more.”

“Does she even realize he’s not being unreasonable? For as long as I’ve known her, she’s always thought she was right. I thought maybe she’d realize, learn from her mistakes, but she never has. She apologizes and then she does it all over again.”

“I don’t think she knows that apologizing for something doesn’t mean you didn’t do it and it doesn’t mean you can do it again,” she says, frowning. “She really believes that you can get your humanity back after everything you’ve done.”

“Well, we know where she got that from,” Raven drawls, “The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Especially when it’s rotten.”

 

_Bellamy_

He grips the back of his chair with one hand, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. As grateful as he is to have clean clothes, they feel awkward on his body. He hasn’t worn a button-up shirt that fit since he was on the Ark and dress pants are not something he’s ever worn. They fit, but it all feels too restrictive. He wouldn’t be able to run in them or fight.

The shoulder pads built into the shirt weigh heavily on him, feeling like they could crush him with its minuscule weight. Their escort, as Russell called it, is waiting outside for them. Bellamy doesn’t even know if the guy is looking at him, but somehow he feels like he’s being judged already. He has to convince Russell to let them stay and it already feels like a losing battle. Fleeing from a destroyed Earth has to be a red flag.

Part of him wants to tell the truth and explain what actually happened. They need to build trust and you can’t do that if the foundations are made of lies. If it’s really going to be a second chance, it would be better if they put it all out in the open. 

The more rational part of him knows that telling the whole truth would be a disaster. Admitting that Clarke is part of the reason the Earth was destroyed is a sure fire way to get them kicked out. 

It’s a mess. All of it. 

He sighs, dragging his hand down his face. His life feels like a paradox and all he wants to do is eat some bread and go to sleep for a bit. He can’t do that though, not now.

“You okay, man?” Shaw asks him and Bellamy blinks, turning to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he says, forcing himself to unclench his jaw. “Just a bit nervous, you know?”

“I get it,” Shaw says, tapping his hand on the bar. “Look, I can’t claim to know you well, but what I do know is that you’re good at negotiating and you have good intentions. You’ll do fine.”

“Ri-” he starts, but he’s interrupted by a wolf-whistle. He glances to where it came from to see Miller and Jackson looking toward where the stairs are. His brow furrows as he follows their gaze.

He hears Murphy before he sees him, “I swear these trousers are too tight.”

It only takes a second of looking for him to know that Murphy’s right. 

In the next second, he gets the wolf-whistle. He’s never seen Murphy look so good. He’s right in saying his trousers are tight, highlighting the shape of them. He’s also in a button-up shirt, but his is white in stark contrast to Bellamy’s black, and his is lacking the odd shoulder pads. The sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and he’s wearing a plain black waistcoat with ALLIE’s symbol sewn into the pocket.

He swallows and readjusts the maroon tie that was left out for him. He’s not sure if the outfit is supposed to bring Murphy in at the waist, but it makes him look that much more attractive. He blinks. Where the hell is all this coming from?

“You clean up surprisingly well,” Miller remarks and Murphy twirls dramatically for him, stumbling a little to the left when he finishes. 

“I don’t need to be worried, do I?” Jackson jokes.

Murphy snorts, “I doubt it.”

He tunes out the loving confessions of the couple to stand up and meet Murphy. “You uh ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Murphy says before he pauses and cocks his head to the side. “Why did you get that outfit and I get _this_?”

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks and starts to walk towards the door

“It’s obscenely tight,” Murphy whines and Bellamy has to stifle a laugh. “I hate you.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not the one who chose that outfit for you.”

“You’re the one that got me invited to this dinner.”

“I’m pretty sure that was you, not me. Russell brought you up and then told me to bring you. I wasn’t going to argue.”

“Weird,” Murphy comments, just as they meet the escort who nods and starts walking. Murphy looks at him and he shrugs, motioning for him to follow. “This feels like the old days, you know?”

“The old days?” Bellamy asks, his brow furrowed.

“Those few days between us landing and me getting hanged,” Murphy elaborates and they both ignore it when his voice cracks. “When you ruled the world as the Rebel King.”

“Ninety-eight kids is hardly the world.”

Murphy bats his eyelashes at him, “You were _my whole world_ back then.”

He sighs and gives Murphy a flat look. “Do you ever stop? Like you have to have an off-switch, right?”

“Not a chance, baby.”

His stomach flips when he hears the nickname. He frowns, trying to make sense of it. Baby is better than Daddy, he guesses. It doesn’t feel like a fitting explanation, but he can’t think of another.

“Behave,” he teases weakly and Murphy just smirks. 

“That a rule for dinner or in general?” Murphy asks him. Bellamy pauses and then realizes they’re about to enter the dining hall. He swallows and checks that his shirt is tucked in properly. 

“Bellamy, Murphy,” Russell greets as they walk through the door side by side. He’s sat a long table covered in colorful foods, but only four placers are set. Russell motions to them. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” he says, making his way to the seats. It’s not a conscious choice to choose the one opposite Russell’s but that’s what happens, and he immediately feels judged under the man’s gaze. 

“Help yourselves,” the lady sat beside Russell tells them, an edge to her voice. He assumes she’s his wife, but he doesn’t know left from right in this strange place. 

He takes note of what is on their plates and chooses a similar combination of foods for his own. He forces his hand to stop shaking as he picks up a salmon-colored ball-like item. It glistens in the light and he imagines it’d be quite appetizing if it wasn’t alien to him. He swallows and places it on his tongue. His eyes widen as a flavor similar to citrus explodes it in his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

“We call it agrenyo,” the lady says and smiles at him. He forces himself to smile back just as she turns her head to look at Murphy. “It’s considered rude to not eat when invited to dinner at someone else’s home.”

Murphy fidgets next to him but reaches out to pick up one of the agrenyos. “Last time I tried new food, I ended up in a coma so if you’ll excuse me for being hesitant.”

“Of course,” Russell says, bowing his head a little. Bellamy blinks, confused by the motion. “Your friend Jordan mentioned it to Delilah. He seemed to have talked quite a bit about you, Murphy.”

“He did say Murphy was always his favorite in the stories,” Bellamy says softly. Murphy turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow. He shrugs. 

Russell chuckles. “He told Delilah quite a lot of your adventures. She found his rendition of the sea monster story quite funny; I think.”

“Well,” Murphy starts, his voice taking on the joking tone Bellamy is very familiar with. “I’m glad people can get amusement of it now because it was just a little terrifying at the time.”

“I can imagine,” Russell says in a light tone. “It does make one wonder what happened to the world that would create such a creature. Care to enlighten us?”

He glances at Murphy who’s looking at him. He raises his eyebrows at him and Murphy motions at him as if to tell him to start. He nods and looks back at them, trying to gather his thoughts. Wiping his mouth, he starts an edited version of the story, making sure to skip over details like Clarke teaming up with McCreary or Octavia burning the farm as much as he wishes he didn’t need to. Murphy chips in occasionally to make a joke and lighten the somber mood. 

Russell hums when he finishes, cocking his head to the side. “It seems like a harrowing tale. I’m glad you found one another among the chaos and disaster.”

“Found one another?” Murphy repeats, his tone as perplexed as Bellamy’s mind. 

“You have no need to worry, the prejudices that plagued our past don’t exist here,” Russell assures them. Bellamy blinks.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow?” he asks.

“What my husband is trying to say that it’s heartening to know that you found love amongst it,” the lady says.

“Oh,” he says, “We’re not, uh…”

“Yeah, we’re not a, not a couple,” Murphy finishes. Both Russell and his wife look confused at it.

“My apology,” Russell tells them and doesn’t elaborate. Bellamy lets out a breath and eats another agrenyo. “If you’d allow it, I’d like to tell you a story.”

He nods, “Okay.”

“Thank you. You’ve met Picasso, Bellamy, our dog. It’s common here to keep pets, my family has had them since I was a child. You’ll see many of the children playing with them as they have for generations. When I was that age, our family dog got angry one day and bit me, and my father wanted to take him out back and shoot him immediately. But I’d loved him, just like the children today do, and so I begged my father to let him live, to give him a second chance. I got what I wanted, but I was wrong because that same dog attacked my infant sister just for going near his food bowl. She didn’t survive.”

Bellamy swallows. Murphy’s hand touches his under the table and he grips it tight, staring ahead with a neutral look on his face. He doesn’t like where this is going.

“I learned that day that second chances aren’t always deserved and that caution must be taken,” Russell says, sounding thoughtful. His stomach drops. “However, you’ve met Picasso. I swore to myself that day I would not have another dog and yet here I am with a gentle soul as a companion. I still feel conflicted over it, to this day. Important decisions are always the most difficult to make and one might think that a single day is not long enough to make them. If you would allow us the time, we would appreciate it if you would give us more time to make a decision about whether or not we will offer you permanent refuge.”

“Of course,” he says in a distant voice, his brain numb again.

The rest of the dinner goes in an awkward haze, filled with small talk and tight voices. There was no decision to not reveal everything about themselves, but they both hold back a few details. If Russell or his wife notice, they don’t mention it. 

Still, he has no doubt that they do.

Russell promises them that they will reach a decision by lunch the next day and all Bell can do is thank you for maybe the seventeenth time in the short amount of time they spent at the dinner. He’s surprised when Russell lets them walk back without an escort, but he’s glad for it.

“So I guess we know why I was invited along then,” Murphy says, whistling as they walk through the town. It’s much cooler at night. “Probably custom to invite the partner of the leader along.”

“Yeah,” he says, not sure what else to say. Murphy lets out a sigh. The rest of the walk continues in silence even though Bellamy wants to say something, he just doesn’t know what. 

They haven’t even entered the tavern before Abby is in front of them asking how it went. Murphy rolls his eyes and pushes past her, leaving him to tell them. He sighs, “He told us he’ll have made a decision by lunch tomorrow.” 

“Right.” Abby looks disappointed and Bellamy has to stop himself from saying something. She has no right to be disappointed, not after she electrocuted Raven to feed her own addiction. 

He nods and walks into the tavern. He glances around and decides to head toward where Shaw and Emori are sitting when a shout sounds out.

“Jordan!” Murphy says, running toward the stairs. 

Bellamy blinks and then follows, his feet pounding on the floor as hard as his heart is in his ears.

 

_Echo_

“What are they saying?” Clarke asks, glaring at the people surrounding the dropship. 

For a few moments, she feels a pang of sympathy for her. She can’t imagine what it would be like to see your child helpless. As much as she dislikes Clarke, she’s not heartless.

“If you can’t hear them, why would we be able to?” Raven says and her voice is grating. Echo bites her lip and looks away, focussing on everyone.

“It doesn’t matter what they’re saying,” Octavia dismisses, leaning forward where she’s crouched. “The others left with their weapons, we can easily overpower them, take them out.”

She sighs. “In case you’ve forgotten, we don’t have any weapons either.”

“You don’t have any weapons,” Octavia says and reaches into her pocket to brandish two blades.

“Octavia,” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. This entire thing is a nightmare. “Even with those which we’re not meant to have, we’re not killing anyone. They’re defenseless.”

“Exactly! They’re sitting ducks and all we’re doing is wasting time.”

“You realize Bellamy isn’t going to forgive you if you don’t-”

“She’s right,” Clarke interrupts and her gaze doesn’t move from the ship. “They don’t know we’re here, that gives us the advantage. We can take them out and get the ship before they even realize we’re here.”

Echo bristles, “We’re _not_ killing anyone if we don’t have to.”

“It’s the best way for us to take the ship with the least casualties.”

“Least casualties? You think killing them all will lead to the least casualties?”

“On our side.”

“And Wanheda is back,” Raven mutters beside her and Echo just sighs. 

“We’re not killing anyone we don’t have to,” Echo says firmly. Clarke turns at her and opens her mouth, but Echo cuts her off before she can start, “If either of you kills any of them, I will tell Russell and Bellamy. If we actually want to have a second chance here, then we can’t kill someone unless we absolutely have to.” 

“You can’t make that decision,” Clarke tells her.

“Wanheda and Blodreina have no place in Sanctum.”

“How do you suggest we take the ship then?” 

“Create a distraction and lead them away,” Raven says in a firm voice. “That way, we can take the ship without a fight and _without any casualties_. It’s the safest way for all of us, including Madi.”

Echo nods. Clarke stares at them both for several seconds before she huffs, “Fine.”

 

_Bellamy_

“There, there he is!” Jordan says, pointing down at the ground with a shaky hand. Bellamy focusses his eyes, seeing the figure running away into the night.

Murphy places a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go after him, you stay here in case they come back.”

“You sure?” he asks, turning to look at him.

He nods. “You may be a better fighter, Bell, but I’m a faster runner.” 

 

_Echo_

“Go with Raven,” Diyoza says. She pauses, scanning the surroundings and barely processes the words.

“Echo!” Diyoza shouts, shaking her shoulder. “Go with Raven. We can protect from here, but if they overpower us, we need someone protecting our pilot. You’re the best fighter we have.” 

She nods, takes one more look around their surroundings before she runs after Raven, gripping the sharp stick she found tight in her hand. 

 

_Murphy_

The only sound he can hear is his own heart beating in his ears. His eyes feel impossibly wide and his lungs ache as he takes step after step. His feet ache. He needs to keep going, he’s nearly caught up.

They’re approaching the crops. He could lose the guy in the fields. He breathes out and forces himself to speed up.

A few seconds go by and he knows he can get him. He throws himself forward, grabbing onto anything he can get his hands on. They both go tumbling down, Murphy scrambling to get on top. A knee digs into his stomach, but he ignores it, pushing down onto the man. His entire body aches, but his heart beating fast.

 

_Bellamy_

“Wait, Shaw!” he calls out after him, gripping onto the doorframe. “Where are you going?”

Shaw skids to a halt, looking back at Bellamy. “Someone needs to go after him, Murphy won’t be able to overpower him and I know Eligius. If anyone can stop him, it’s me.”

Biting his lip, he closes his eyes and tries to get his brain to work as fast as his heart is pounding. He nods, “Go. Bring… Delilah back.”

He shouldn’t ask him to bring Murphy back, but he needs him to.

 

_Murphy_

He grips onto the rake, blood pouring out of his hands. Glaring up at the man, he tries to push back.

“Give it up,” the man tells him, a cruel smile on his face. Murphy takes a deep breath, trying to use any strength he has left. “I won’t kill you if you give it up.”

“No,” he breathes out, the word barely getting out of his throat. 

“Too bad,” the man says and his heel digs into Murphy’s shin. He cries out, barely able to keep the rake away from his throat. He can feel the energy draining out of his body. He’s so tired. 

 

_Echo_

“Where’s Octavia?” she asks, walking into the exit of the ship. “I’ve checked everywhere for stowaways.”

“I left her,” Clarke says. Echo blinks.

“ _What?_ ”

“I left her,” she repeats, her voice completely emotionless. “I had to; we wouldn’t have gotten away if I waited for her.”

She stalks toward Clarke, rage burning in her veins. “You left her? What happened to none of us being expendable? I can’t believe-”

A hand hits her chest, pushing her back and faulting her speech. She glares up at Diyoza who shakes her head. “Leave it until we’re safe. No point getting angry at her now.”

 

_Murphy_

A body tackles the man above him. Murphy blinks, sits up and then scrambles to grab the rake. He forces himself up to his feet and takes a step forward.

“Shaw?” he asks, his eyes furrowing as he stares at him and the man. Shaw pushes up and Murphy holds the rake out to him with shaking hands. He takes it and holds it just above the man’s neck. 

“Check on Delilah,” Shaw tells him, his expression completely neutral despite how haggard he looks. He nods and stumbles toward her.

 

_Bellamy_

He throws his arms around Murphy before he can even greet him, hugging him tightly. Murphy basically melts into him, pushing his face into Bellamy’s shoulder. 

“You okay?” he asks when they pull away even though he doesn’t fully let go. He scans Murphy’s face for sign of injury. Other than a bandage around his neck, there’s nothing obvious.

Murphy nods. “Yeah, you?”

“Yeah,” he says and takes a deep breath. He bites his lip and leaves _now that I know you’re safe_ on his tongue because he’s not, not really. Not until he knows that the rest of his family are safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
>  
> 
> come cry with me on [tumblr](https://listen-to-the-inner-walrus.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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